Just Not Pneumonia

Why couldn't it be bronchitis or strep throat? A nice little stomach flu, perhaps? But no, my son had pneumonia all last week. And so I knew I'd have to have the frank conversation I didn't want to have – the one where I explain that pneumonia doesn't turn into cancer.

As soon as I got in my car outside the radiologist's office, I checked Christopher's X-ray. Pneumonia. I could see it on the image of his right lung. I've checked plenty of chest X-rays since I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma in my left lung five months ago, so I know a mass when I see one.

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Of course, six months ago, my doctor thought I had pneumonia, and Chris remembered that. When we got home, I told him, "The antibiotics will make you all better soon."

He furrowed his brow. He wasn't buying it, and I didn't want him to have to ask the question that was clearly on his mind. I explained, "Pneumonia doesn't turn into cancer. In fact, I never even had pneumonia. The doctors were wrong."

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I thought I put his mind at ease, but then he tilted his head like a dog when he figures out you're trying to sneak up on the shoe he's been chewing on. You know, right before he nips at you.

"But they're right about your pneumonia," I backpedaled. "See, I had symptoms for a very long time. Months, even years of fevers, sweats, chills, fatigue. First, they thought it was Lyme's disease..."

Now he stared at me as though I was the Village Idiot dropping by to talk nonsense before heading back to decoupage class to shellac my squirrel drawings onto plaques.

"...but you don't have Lyme's disease," I continued. "Plus, your symptoms just started up, and besides, the X-ray shows pneumonia. Really." I realized I was wringing my hands, so I sat on them and smiled weakly. Where's the "How to Talk to Your Children" pamphlet for this one?

He coughed a few times, sighed and opened his portable Nintendo game. Apparently, the computerized world of Pokémon was easier to believe than what I was saying. And I couldn't blame him.

My oncologist told me that I've had this tumor for more than a year now, and yet, it took at least seven months to get an accurate diagnosis. Perhaps that's because non-Hodgkin's lymphoma is most common in male retirees, not in 40-year-old soccer moms. Maybe doctors figure that most mothers feel run-down all the time, anyhow. Really, why would anyone think I had cancer?

When Chris' fever broke the next day, he seemed relieved. Maybe I knew what I was talking about (okay, babbling about) after all. But when he wasn't looking, I took out my chest X-ray – the one with the 16 centimeter blob in the left lung – and prayed he'd never have anything worse than pneumonia for the rest of his life.